What Led to the Marriage (Longer Story Version)
by lady knight Ardia
Summary: Out of the blue an old flame shows up on her doorstep, only hours after leaving his intended at the isle, looking for a place to stay. It completely throws all her plans and life into chaos.
1. Chapter 1

(I'm going to try to expand this story. Updates will probably be few and far between. Though it is rugby season, so maybe not. I become a widow during rugby season)

…..

…..

HELGA'S PROLOGUE

…

The day Helga graduated had been the best day of her life!

"I'm gonna miss you round the house, girl," Big Bob Pataki had told her, hugging her. When he pulled back she almost started to cry when she saw tears were in his eyes. Miriam and Olga were still inside fussing around.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, her voice catching.

"Listen," he said, taking her a little further from the house, he pulled out his wallet. "It's not gonna be cheap, and it's the best I can do." he handed her a credit card. "Fees and emergencies only, girl, I mean it. Tell no one. It'll cover your fees, but you'll need to pay for food and such."

Helga took it from him, her hands shaking.

"Keep it separate from your everyday bank account," he warned her. "Fees and emergencies, remember?"

"Yes Dad, fees and emergencies," she said.

"You got everything else? Birth certificate, passport, drivers license," Bob asked her.

"Dad, I have it all in the little safety box you gave me," she told him, smiling.

Father and daughter stood staring at each other for a long time in silence.

'Where had the time gone?' Bob wondered staring at this beautiful young woman standing before him, ready to spread her wings, and fly from the nest. If only the older one would do the same.

"You look after yourself Helga," he said, pulling her again into a crushing bear hug.

"I'll look after myself, Dad, I promise."

…

…

She looked at the address on the letter in front of her. Underneath had her schedule for lectures and classes. She looked up at the building, Gentileschi Hall. Helga smiled at the irony. She was there to study Arts, and the dorm hall she was to be staying in was named after a female artist.

"Cute," she said, pulling her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her suitcase, and making her way in.

The first thing she saw upon entering was what must have been the student lounge. It was pretty big, couches and a big screen TV. There were some computers in a separate little "office". There were various chairs and little tables scattered around. Some girls were talking animatedly to one another, others looked lost.

Helga was neither. She just wanted to get to her room, which was on the third floor, number thirty-two. It was shared with another girl, Gladys something or rather. She sighed. She hated people. Except Phoebe, she loved Phoebe, but Phoebe wasn't here. Phoebe was at Harvard. She took the lift up. No way in heck was she carrying this suitcase up stairs. It smelled a bit inside, like disinfectant. She didn't really want to think about why. Stepping out on her floor she turned left and looked at the numbers on the doors. Thirty-two. There was music blasting in the room already, and Helga sighed again.

As she reached out to open the door, it flew open to reveal a curvier girl, with glasses and curly brown hair, which had obviously been dyed blonde, but she had let it grow out.

"Helga?" she asked.

Helga smiled and nodded. This girl was going to have a personality as big as her, obviously.

"Come in, come in," she said, moving back then going over to a desk and turning the volume down. "Sorry, I love Black Sabbath."

"Obviously," Helga said dryly, seeing that she was left with the bed on the left. That was fine, whatever. She could see already that Gladys was making herself at home. Posters of various rock and metal bands were going up, her CD rack was already loaded, and she had already hung up her clothes in the shared closet.

"I know, right?" Gladys said. "Shared closet. I hope you don't smoke."

"No, no I don't smoke," Helga said, placing her suitcase on the spare bed, and dropping her backpack on the floor. "So . . ."

"So," Gladys said, smiling and putting her hands behind her back.

They both awkwardly stood there, smiling at each other, not knowing what else to say or do.

…

There were naturally teething problems living with Gladys, though that was all fixed when they moved into the Sorority House. Helga's outgoing nature had encouraged Gladys, and although she wasn't Miranda Kerr, she had dropped a few pounds. Helga had needed to work out to avoid the dreaded Freshman five. But Gladys was already on a diet."I promised myself I would eat better," she told Helga one night.

"Eating betters great, but you should exercise as well," Helga pointed out. "Makes you feel good."

"Yeah . . . What is up with you up first thing in the morning running?"

Gladys and Helga became best friends on campus doing as much as they could. Turns out Gladys was quite the party girl. More often than not Helga would hold the girls hair while she had her head in the toilet. It was some unwritten rule that if it was your roommate, you had to look after them.

Gladys returned the favour a few times, though not because Helga was drunk. Helga had gotten a stomach bug "from that teachers brat I'll bet". Gladys had caught it as well, so the two girls had bonded during that time.

The third and fourth year went as well as could be expected. She had a gallery event in her fourth year and had sold some paintings.

"I can't believe it!" Gladys had squealed.

It was that night that she had met Darius. He was a student from another University, studying Law. Helga was happy for her friend, and even happier when the relationship went from strength to strength.

During her time at college, Helga found a job in a book and art supply's store. Life was good.

Then it was over. She was set loose on the world.

Helga put her sales money in the bank, but had cautiously looked around at houses and apartments.

"Go for an apartment," Darius advised. "They're closer to town, so even if at a later date you decide to move to the suburbs, you can borrow against the apartment and keep it as a rental."

Helga nodded, and had his best friend help her through the process. And had a fling with him while she was at it. Flings. They were fun. She had them through college, and afterwards. They were the perfect "relationships". They started well, ended well. There was no real stress, serious fights, splitting up of assets.

Two years after leaving college, Gladys came over. Phoebe was over this particular day, and although Gladys and Phoebe had heard of each other and seen pictures of each other, they had never actually met in person. Helga was a bit worried for a moment, while they sized each other up. Then Gladys turned to Helga with a big smile, held up her had and screamed "I'm engaged!"

Helga screamed, Gladys screamed, then they hugged and jumped around like loons.

"Congratulations," Phoebe said, smiling.

"We should celebrate!" Gladys announced.

And they did. Helga flirted and Gladys and Phoebe got to know one another better.

"I'm off," Helga said. She handed Gladys a piece of paper that had a name, address and phone number on it, then sent her a picture of the guy she was leaving with. "See you tomorrow. Unless, of course he's a killer or something. If I don't come back, I love you and wish you all the best!"

Then she was gone. It was an okay night, but early in the morning she did her usual. Snuck out and caught a taxi home. She had given the guy a false name, and had made sure he lived far enough away that they would have a very, very slim chance of bumping into one another again.

Entering her home she threw her shoes in a corner and went to the kitchen to get some breakfast, and answered her ringing phone.

"Talk," Helga said, opening a carton of juice and drinking from it.

"Hey Helga. It's Darius."

"Hey man, what's up?" she asked, kicking the fridge door closed with her foot and getting out a frying pan. Dammit! Should have gotten something on the way home.

"I have a favour to ask of you," he said.

"Sure thing," she said, ripping open a packet of bacon and putting the pieces in the frying pan.

"I want to commission painting."

…

She had never been shy around naked men. When she was nine she had seen her first naked male. During classes, and some other private commissions and projects, she had painted naked men (and had a few affairs while she was at it). She had even painted a gay couple in her last year of university. It had been odd at first, and a little unsettling, but she pushed her feelings aside and entered her art-mind and by the end of it, after getting to know them, her discomfort passed. They were now good friends and planning their wedding. Helga had the invite on her fridge.

University had opened her eyes to so many different things, leaving it even more. She did a bit of travelling during and after leaving University, visiting Ireland, United Kingdom, France, Spain and Portugal. Her second visit was Italy, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands. Mostly back packing with some friends from Uni. She made friends, and sold some art, which helped her continue to travel, and soaked up the atmosphere. Her next trip, she was already planning, was finishing off her European adventure with Denmark, Norway, Sweden and Finland. A cousin of her fathers had offered to sponsor her if she decided to travel to Russia. She had thanked them, but had decided to keep Russia for a completely separate trip. It was a big country, and she wanted to enjoy it. She couldn't see herself doing that and travelling elsewhere. She had that planned out as well. Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, and Slovania

She also wanted to find someone to travel with.

"So where are you going next?" Darius asked her that day. It had been strange at first, watching her best friends man strip down to nothing. It was the first time she was embarrassed and flustered. She felt terrible, like she was cheating on her best friend or something. But eventually she started to see him as just another man.

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"Come on, Helga. You disappear every year into Europe," Darius said, rolling his eyes. "So where to this time? Can't be too many nooks and crannies you haven't explored."

"Oh contrair," she said. "Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, Moldova, Romania, Bulgaria-"

"Okay, okay, I stand corrected," he said, holding his hands up. "But seriously, where are you going next?"

"Denmark, Norway, Sweden and Finland," she finally answered. Middle of the year though. I'm not keen on travelling around there during winter. Made that mistake once. Never again."

She watched him get himself settled, then did her breathing excersises to get herself into "the Zone".

"Would you holiday in Italy for a honeymoon?" Darius asked.

"Stop breaking my concentration, you sexy beast!" Helga teased.

"Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up.

"Helga did her breathing then started to paint, picking up where she had left off. She had gotten it all ready before he had come, so as to be able to just get right into it.

"What's wrong, Helga babe?" he asked.

Helga looked away from the painting.

"I need some fun, some excitement. I need a lover-"

Bang, bang, bang.

Both of them looked at the door in shock.

"I'll be back in a sec," she said, placing her paints on her stool, while Darius hurried to put his pants on, at least. Imagine if it was Gladys! What would she think?

"Oh my God!" he heard Helga exclaim.

"Heya Hell Girl," he heard a voice reply. It was male, so not Gladys. He looked out to see a tall, trim, football headed, blonde man, dressed like he was about to be married, but hadn't quite made it. His hair was everywhere, his tie undone, looking out of breath. He entered the apartment, looking around and, seeing the couch, made his way over. "Nice place."

"Football Head? What are you doing here?" Helga asked, looking stunned."Well, I happened to be in the neighbourhood and thought to myself, 'You know who you haven't seen in a while? Helga.' So here I am," he told her smiling.

"Dude, you look like you're getting married," Darius finally spoke up. The man turned around on his heel and smiled at him.

"About three hours ago I was," he said.

"What happened?" Helga asked curiously. "And why are you here?"

"Cold feet, and I need to lay low for a while," he said. "Mind if I stay here?"

"Here?" Helga asked. "What? How did you even find here?"

"I looked you up in Phoebe's phonebook, matched your number to name in the phone book and voila! Helga Pataki, 779-"

"I know my address!" she snapped.

"Hey, how about we finish this tomorrow?" Darius said suddenly. There was some weird mojo going on between these two, and it was making him feel uncomfortable and like an intruder.

"What?" Helga asked, breaking eye contact with Arnold and looking over at him. "Oh, um, yeah. I'll see you and Glady's tonight though."

"Alright, see you then," he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek. He nodded at Arnold and left, closing the door behind him. That was weird.

…

"Boyfriend?" Arnold asked, walking over to the couch and sitting down.

"No," she said, not giving anymore away. Who did Arnold think he was, walking into her apartment like he owned it? "Please. Make yourself at home."

"Does that mean I can stay?" he asked.

"Do you have a job?" she asked. "Cause I'm not going to support a bum."

Arnold nodded, looking her over. She had improved. A lot.

"Fine, a hundred for my spare room, split the bills, and no strangers," she told him. "This is too bizarre."

Helga dropped down on the couch next to him.

"Tell me about it," he added. "A few hours ago I was getting married!"

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

"Saw her fucking Gerald in the bathroom," he told her.

"Aren't you mad? I'd be screaming murder! No, I'd just go straight to murder, no screaming. Wouldn't want to bring witnesses," Helga said.

"Well, I'm not completely innocent," Arnold said.

"What do you mean?" Helga asked. Arnold shrugged.

"I spent last night with her maid-of-honour."

…

…

(Arnold's prologue is next. Working on it. Wish me luck lol)


	2. Chapter 2

ARNOLD'S PROLOGUE

…

Arnold was always the nice guy at school. Always. And presented the problem of the Friend Zone. The one time he complained about it, it was Helga Pataki who heard him.

"Your too nice, that's your problem," she said. Then she slammed her locker and walked away, not even looking back once.

It was the first time she had spoken to him since Middle School.

"Man, I hate that girl," Gerald muttered.

"Who, Helga?" Arnold asked. "Why?"

Gerald just shook his head and threw a glare at her retreating back.

He had joined the swim team. As much as he loved team sports, it was safer for him to be in a more solo sport. Any sport involving a ball was no good. Baseball - he'd hit someone, Basketball - he broke several people's noses, and one guys arm, lacrosse . . . Oh, what a mess, he didn't even want to remember that. Swimming. Perfect. Eugene had told him to try cheerleading, which is what he did. Everyone who had grown up with Eugene gasped, except Helga who had laughed and laughed and told Rhonda and co "your all doomed" and then walked off cackling. Rhonda almost quit the squad, but Lila talked her out of it.

Eugene was actually really good. At first he was laughed at, but then it dawned on the guys that he was always surrounded by girls. Fit girls. Girls in short skirts. It was also the only time he never hurt himself. No one was ever able to explain that.

Helga was in the Drama Club, worked on the school blog as an editor, writer and sometimes photographer. When she wasn't busy with that, she would hide away and write, or be in the art room painting, or putting together some sculpture. Arnold had the pleasure of being in the same class, but she never spoke to him. In fact, she spoke to very few people. If she did, it was for a reason, never from joy. Unless you were Phoebe.

Phoebe dated Gerald for all of a month before she dumped him. Everyone who grew up with them was shocked, except Helga. Arnold watched her with Phoebe after it happened. Arnold heard her say "cest la vie", and then it was completely forgotten. Gerald took it hard. Phoebe moved on a couple of weeks later. Gerald moved on too. Three times. Each time he tried to throw it in Phoebe's face, Phoebe rolled her eyes and walked away telling him to grow up. The girls he went out with didn't appreciate it too much either. It was painful for Arnold to watch.

Graduation came and went and he moved on to University to study medicine, but ended up in anthropology. He took advantage of the fact that no one knew him here to do a kind of overhaul of himself. He joined a fraternity, and became a moderate party animal. He dated here and there but nothing really serious til the third year in when he met Lucy.

She was cute, she was funny, and she wasn't blonde with blue eyes, a trait in all his other "girlfriends" that he hadn't even realised til one of his brothers pointed it out to him. He spent that first summer with Lucy, travelling with Gerald and his new girlfriend Elizabeth, who was blonde with blue eyes. They went to some tourist states, and happened to bump into Phoebe in Boston. Elizabeth and Phoebe, it turned out, knew each other from a camp they went on together during high school. Gerald was quiet, but Elizabeth and Phoebe went out together one night, taking Lucy with them. Gerald made a bigger deal of the whole thing than Elizabeth did. Elizabeth and Lucy added Phoebe on Facebook and stayed in was how Arnold was able to sometimes spy on Helga. He knew she was backpacking in Europe with some friends. He saw it while her profile was public. But then it went private. He added her as a friend, but she never accepted. It hurt. He would see her pop up in pictures Phoebe was tagged in, which mostly of scenes in various European countries. When he asked Phoebe about her though, Phoebe just explained that Helga didn't stay in contact with anyone other than her, which Arnold found to be true.

Lila, he found out, was now married with a child. When she moved back to her old hometown with her dad after her grandmother got sick, she caught up with some old friends, and married her "first oh-so-special someone!" She also had Helga on her face book, and Arnold tried to get some info out of her. All he got though, was that she was an artist these days, living in an apartment in town.

It was such a generic answer, that Arnold swore they were protecting her.

After leaving University Arnold asked Lucy to marry him. There was excitement and they set the date for exactly one year after the proposal. They moved in together, Arnold got a job teaching high school students in Science, History and Social Studies. He was envious of Helga's travelling. It was what he had always dreamed of doing, but it hadn't worked out that way.

A week before his wedding and he was starting to feel desperate. He wanted to see Helga one last time. He didn't know what it was, but it was getting stronger and stronger. He knew there was no point in asking Phoebe or Lila. They would tell him nothing, give him some kind of not-answer. In fact Lila had admonished him once, telling him to concentrate on his current relationship, not on a past not-relationship. She lectured how it wasn't fair on Lucy, blah, blah, blah. Arnold never broached the subject with her again.

Then came the night before the wedding. Out drinking, he decided to sneak off to Phoebe's. he knew she was out with her friends. Telling his friend he was going to the toilet, he left the strip bar and caught a cab to Phoebe's house. Out of habit he knocked, and was surprised when the door actually opened.

"Elizabeth?" he asked, surprised.

"Arnold? What are you doing here?" she asked. He thought fast. He knew she had a bit of a crush on him, so used it to his advantage. Something he normally wouldn't do, and spent the night with her, sure Gerald would never find out. While she was sleeping he entered Phoebe's office and found her address book. Flipping through H he found nothing, so tried and P and there. There she was. Pataki, Helga. He tore off a piece of pad paper and grabbed a pen and wrote down her phone number and address. Putting it back where he found it, he then snuck out of the house.

No one would know. After he was married he would track her down, chat to her, find a way to get her out of his system. That's all he needed right? To get her out of his system. Like Lila had said, it wasn't fair on Lucy for him to always wonder what might have been had he returned Helga's feelings all those years ago.

What could have been . . .

…

Looking around Arnold was wondering where Gerald was. Where anyone was for that matter. He heard an argument down the hall, but put it out of his mind, concentrating on getting himself ready. It was forgotten seconds later. eventually though, he got fed up with waiting and went looking for him.

"I saw him go to the toilets," Timberly told him. He thanked her and entered.

It was all he needed to make up his mind. They hadn't even closed the stall door. There, in a stall in the toilets of the church, was Gerald and Lucy. Getting close, so to speak. Lucy opened her eyes and looked at him, eyes glazed over, then she seemed to realise what she was seeing. Confusion, shock, then fear.

"Arnold!" she cried out.

Gerald practically dropped her, spinning around, mouth open in shock.

"Uh-"

"You know what?" Arnold said. "Never mind. Sorry to interrupt."

"Arnold wait!" he heard Lucy's voice cry out, but it was cut off by the toilet door closing. He walked down the hallway, towards the door, and saw Phoebe on his way.

"Arnold where are you going?" she asked. "The ceremony is due to start in-"

"Call it off," he said to her and walked out the door.

"Arnold wait!" Lucy called out again. "Arnold!"

Phoebe looked that way to see a tousled, flustered Lucy exiting the toilets, Gerald right behind her, looking smug.

In another room, Elizabeth was crying. She had confessed to Gerald that she had slept with Arnold the night before.

Gerald had obviously decided to get his revenge.

It worked.

…

He got into the Packard, and drove off. He loosened his tie, put his foot down, threw his flower away.

Freedom, was the first thought in his mind.

Helga, was the second.

He no longer had Lucy hanging over his head. There would be no guilt in chasing after Helga. He smiled.

Man, was Helga going to be surprised!

….

He parked his car in the parking lot of the apartment building that Helga was staying in. he smiled at the doorman as he entered, and the people behind the desk as he entered the lift. He made polite chit chat with an elderly lady in the elevator, and mentioned Helga in passing.

"Oh, she's such a lovely girl," the lady said. "Did a painting of my grandkids, she did. Beautiful work. She did it pro-bono too, which was lovely. They got it for me for my eightieth."

"Really?" he asked. Finally, someone willing to talk about her!

"Oh yes, travels a fair bit, too," the woman continued. "Lucky young woman, making the most of her youth. She often comes by after a trip and shows me pictures and tells me stories about where she's been, who she's met, what she got up to, her various little love affairs. Oh to be young again!"

He smiled, but said nothing. They both got off on the same level.

"Her apartment is to the left, dear," she said. He watched her go to the second door on the right. He gave her a smile and wave, then made his way to her door and knocked.

He would never forget the look on her face as long as he lived.

….

"Heya, Hell Girl," he said, smiling at her and inviting himself in. "Nice place."

"Football Head?" she asked astonished. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I happened to be in the neighbourhood and thought to myself, 'You know who you haven't seen in a while? Helga.' So here I am," he told her smiling.

"Dude, you look like you're getting married," a guy's voice said. Arnold turned around on his heel and smiled at him. This was one tall guy, and built. He was obviously someone who worked out, but not to the point of being over muscled.

"About three hours ago I was," he told him.

"What happened?" Helga asked curiously. "And why are you here?"

"Cold feet, and I need to lay low for a while," he told her. "Mind if I stay here?"

"Here?" Helga asked. "What? How did you even find here?"

"I looked you up in Phoebe's phonebook, matched your number to name in the phone book and voila! Helga Pataki, 779-"

"I know my address!" she snapped.

"Hey, how about we finish this tomorrow?" the guy said suddenly.

"What?" Helga asked, breaking eye contact with Arnold and looking over at him. "Oh, um, yeah. I'll see you and Gladys tonight though."

"Alright, see you then," he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek. He nodded at Arnold and left, closing the door behind him.

"Boyfriend?" Arnold asked, walking over to the couch and sitting down.

"No," she said, not saying anymore. "Please. Make yourself at home."

"Does that mean I can stay?" he asked.

"Do you have a job?" she asked. "Cause I'm not going to support a bum."

Arnold nodded, looking her over. She had improved. A lot. Her blonde hair was loose, she had a sort of hippie vibe going on above the shoulders, then more of a grungy look down.

"Fine, a hundred for my spare room, split the bills, and no strangers," she told him. "This is too bizarre." Helga dropped down on the couch next to him.

"Tell me about it," he added. "A few hours ago I was getting married!"

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

"Saw her fucking Gerald in the bathroom," he told her.

"Aren't you mad? I'd be screaming murder! No, I'd just go straight to murder, no screaming. Wouldn't want to bring witnesses," Helga said.

"Well, I'm not completely innocent," Arnold admitted.

"What do you mean?" Helga asked. Arnold shrugged.

"I spent last night with her maid-of-honour."

Helga jaw dropped.

"Are you serious?" she asked, leaning away from him. "What the hell?"

"Well, she caught me at Phoebe's and I had to think fast, and that's . . . how it all . . . happened . . ."

He watched as Helga raised a shaped brow.

"Happened? And what were you doing at Phoebe's?" she asked.

"Looking for you."

…..

Helga had her hair up. A complicated looking plait that Arnold was trying to figure out how Helga would have done it herself.

"Okay, so tonight I had arranged to go out with my friends," she told him. "Get dressed and you can come along."

'How gracious' he thought, as he went into a room. Helga threw some clothes at him.

"Let me know if they don't fit!" she called out. "I have others!"

Others? Why did she have men's clothes in her apartment? Old boyfriend? Old flatmate? A one night stand? He shook his head. He didn't want to think about it. Getting himself dressed, he went out and smiled at her.

"How do I look?"

She looked him over quickly and nodded.

"Okay, so here's the deal," Helga told him. "I'm a single woman. I am looking for a bit of fun, nothing else. So don't get in my way, and I won't get in yours."

"Deal," Arnold said, smiling. Man she was hot tonight. 'Keep it in your pants!' his brain screamed at him. He sighed. Yeah, that paid off well last time. 'You need a place to stay, don't stuff this up!'

"Okay, as long as we're on the same page here," she said. "Come on. We're meeting at a small restaurant down the road, then we'll go out to a bar."

…

He met her new group of friends and listened as they talked. They spoke mostly of authors and philosophies and artists and other people and teachers he didn't know. He realised then that he knew nothing about Helga. At all. Not anymore, anyway. She looked back and smiled at him a couple of times.

"I love you!" he could hear her childish voice yelling at him. He shivered. Was that young girl really this woman who was standing in front of him now?

He wanted to get her alone, get reacquainted.

Get her out of his system.

Finally he tapped her shoulder.

"Yeah?" she asked, turning around. Arnold smiled at her.

"So, you come here often?"

"Are you serious?" she asked laughing.

"Yes ma'am," he said.

"Don't call me ma'am," she said. She held her hand out to him. "My name is Helga."

"Helga it is," he said, taking her hand and kissing it.

…..

The touching started on their way back to the apartment. The kissing in the elevator, the un-dressing in the front room, the lovemaking on the couch. Helga's skin was soft, her hair smelled of apples. He was so lost in her kisses and caresses. She reached her peak before he did, at which point he took over, rolling her under him, and taking control. She again came, and he with her and something strange happened.

Although their upper bodies weren't toughing, it felt like an invisible force slammed into him, and as he looked down he could see she felt it too. As if their souls had reached out through their bodies and embraced, leaving their physical shells behind, yet somehow their bodies felt that connection.

Arnold had never felt anything like it before, and lowered himself to her afterwards, kissing her lips, her cheek, her eyes, her forehead, burying his nose into her hair.

"Did you feel that?" she whispered, still trying to catch her breath.

He just nodded. He couldn't form words.

"What was that?"

He shook his head.

He honestly didn't know.

Waking the next morning in her bed, he didn't realise she was gone until he opened her eyes. He could feel her body against his. Even as he woke and saw she wasn't there, he could still feel it.

What was that? Why? How was that possible to still literally feel her body against his, though she wasn't there?

He heard the shower going, and followed the sound into her ensuite. Did he dare?

His morning routine always started with brushing his teeth, then breakfast, then getting dressed so he would run the risk of spilling breakfast on his clothes. It was common sense to him. Though thankfully today he had no work.

He knocked a few times, but he got no answer, so he entered anyway. They had spent the night having sex. Surely this wouldn't be a problem. Entering he saw her standing under the water, face tilted up, running her fingers through her hair. He took in the scenery for a little bit.

"I need to buy a toothbrush," he said, standing next to the shower door. He had obviously given her a fright because she jumped and almost slipped over.

"Fucking shit!" she screamed. "What the hell is wrong with you, sneaking up on me like that?"

"Not my problem you didn't hear me knock," he told her smiling. "Can I join you?"

"No, my shower," she said. He opened the door anyway.

"Come on, Helga," he said from right behind her.

"Do you have any idea how weird and insane this is?" she asked. "You showed up on my doorstep yesterday, hours after you were supposed to get married, in bed with me last night, climbing in the shower with me this morning."

"Too fast?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her up against his naked body, and kissing her neck. He wanted her again.

"Break neck," she said, wriggling out of his grasp, and getting out. "You need to sort your shit out, Arnold." She wrapped her towel around her and left him standing alone in the shower.

"What the hell?" he asked, looking in the direction she had gone in. after last night, really? This was how she was going to be. He stood there for a while longer, but the conceded she was right. It was strange, and weird, and insane, and what the hell was he doing? It dawned on him that he had technically been stalking her. He got her address deceptively, and just shown up. He followed her out last night, charmed her, bedded her.

He banged his head against the shower wall.

"I'm insane."

…..


	3. Chapter 3

Arnold watched Helga butter her toast.

"Where's mine?" he asked, half serious.

"You have arms and legs, Arnold. Use them," Helga told him, taking a bite out of her toast.

"Do you treat all your guests this way?" he asked.

"No, I never bring them home," she said. "I always go to their place. Look Arnold, this isn't some little love nest. We had sex. I'm not going to turn into some domestic goddess, if that's what your looking for."

"No, no, I just thought-"

"Well don't," she said, picking up her coffee and walking towards her studio room. "You can find your way around alright?"

Arnold nodded.

"Okay," she said, walking into her studio and shutting the door, leaving Arnold sitting at the kitchen counter dumb struck.

"Wow, first time this has happened to me," he mumbled. He couldn't understand the turn around in Helga. Last night, between them, had been incredible. Now, in the harsh light of day he was wondering what he had done. He sighed, getting up and making himself some toast. Had he made a mistake? It was dawning on him now that he had just chucked away a four year relationship, for what? What had he thrown it away for?

'But last night . . .' his mind was thinking. It had to mean something, right? Now he was starting t worry. What if he had made a mistake. The toast popping up brought him back to reality and he prepared it, then sat and ate. He would think about things after breakfast. He hadn't actually had much time to really look around the apartment, so he did so now. Which was when he noticed it.

There was no television. At all. Anywhere.

"Huh," he said. "Wonder where it is?"

He cleaned up after himself and went to the room Helga had said he could have and stood staring out the window. He was in the middle of a busy city. You could open the ranch slider and stand on a small deck, which he did, and looked to his left. It went along the length. Past his window, past the living room and probably past Helga's bedroom window. He took a walk to see if he was right, and yep, he was. That confirmed he started back to his room. He wondered then how many bathrooms there were. He knew there were two at least, one attached to Helga's, one attached to his. But he didn't know if there was a main one. He entered the room across from his and saw that this room too, had a bathroom. Three bathrooms. This room didn't have a window though, and was next to the kitchen. So it was a four bedroom apartment. He saw this room had a computer in it. The room had been turned into a study, though there was a double bed in there. But it hadn't been used by the looks of it, even though it was made up to be.

He left the room and wandered into the living room and sat down on the couch. Helga came out of the fourth bedroom.

"Lunch?" she asked. "I feel like omelets or something."

"Omelets for lunch?" he asked.

"Yes, Arnold, omelets for lunch," she said sighing. "Problem?"

"No, I just see omemlets as more of a breakfast thing," he explained.

"So you don't want any omelets?" she asked.

"No, I do!" he said.

"Okay, what do you want in it?"

Arnold watched her move around the kitchen making the omelets. She was telling him about the commission she was doing for Darius.

"Isn't it sweet?" she asked. "Lucky bitch."

"I thought Gladys was your best friend?" Arnold said.

"She is," Helga confirmed. "I don't mean that literally, Arnold. She's the greatest thing since sliced bread, and would give you her undies if you had none."

"That supposed to be shirt," Arnold told her.

"Yes, but then she'd be cold, you nit," she said, shaking her head. "Men."

She put her plate on the bench and walked off towards that room.

"Pheeb's is coming over, just send her in," Helga said over her shoulder. Then she closed the door.

Ten minutes later there was knocking on the door and Arnold opened it to find Phoebe standing there.

"Hello, Arnold," Phoebe greeted him. "Is Helga home?"

"She's in her studio," he said, stepping back. "Um, so-"

"Gerald and Lucy are playing the blame game," she told him. "At the moment they're busy ripping each other apart, rather than coming after you. Though I don't expect it to last long."

Phoebe continued past him and entered the room Helga had gone into.

….

"So what happened?" Phoebe asked, dropping her purse onto the floor and sitting down on the chaise.

"I cancelled Darius today, for starters," she told her. "No way would I be able to concentrate. And Arnold and I slept together last night. Alcohol was involved."

"Of course it was," Phoebe said sighing. "Nature must laugh her butt off at us stupid humans."

"Pheebs, we laugh at us stupid humans," Helga told her. "She probably just wonders where they heck she went wrong."

"True," she conceded. "So what happened?"

"He just showed up on my doorstep yesterday, dressed to the nines, came in, made himself at home, explained he caught his finacee and Gerald in the toilets-"

"Ugh, who does that? I mean the toilets?" Phoebe said, making a gagging face. "Classy."

Helga laughed.

"Well apparently Arnold had been off with the maid-of-honour the night before," she said. "I don't know these people."

"Okay, well, Gerald had sex with Lucy, to get back at Arnold for having sex with Elizabeth," Phoebe told her.

"Who's Elizabeth?" Helga asked, turning back to her painting.

"Gerald's girlfriend," Phoebe told her.

"Seriously?" Helga asked.

"Yep. Anyway, Lucy found out why Gerald was sniffing around her and is crazy mad at him saying it's his fault Arnold took off," Phoebe concluded. "At least, that's what I'm figuring."

"Okay, it's official," Helga said, putting her paint brush down. "He's out."

"Out?"

"Yeah, I'm not having soap drama follow his cheating, lying ass here," Helga said. "This is my sanctuary. I'm not having it sullied."

"Helga-"

"What?"

"Elizabeth looks a lot like you," Phoebe said.

"So?"

"So, think about it. He's been cheating on his fiancée with a girl who looks like you," Phoebe told her. "Then he takes off, comes here, and Elizabeth hasn't heard from him at all. He's not answering her texts or calls or anything."

"What are you trying to say?" Helga asked, though she had an idea that she knew what the answer was going to be.

"I think he was looking for you."

Helga was quiet a moment.

"Yeah, he said something to that effect to me yesterday," she said. "I thought he meant literally looking for me."

"He has been for a few years," Phoebe confessed. Helga eyes widened.

"A few years?" she asked. Now a ball of anxiety was starting to bounce in her stomach.

"Me and Lila always sort of brushed him off," Phoebe said.

"Pheeb's, I don't think he was in your place to sleep with Elizabeth," Helga told her.

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked. "Why else would he be there?"

"To find out where I lived."

…

Helga did cook dinner that night for Arnold. She placed in front of him.

"Thanks," he said, looking at it. "What is it?"

"Couscous with chorizo and chickpeas," she told him. "If you don't want it put it in a container and I'll eat it for lunch tomorrow."

"So what did you and Phoebe talk about?" he asked.

"You," she stated.

"Me?""

"You."

"Why?" he asked.

"Hmm, let's see . . . um, you show up out of the blue after not talking to me for five years, dressed for your wedding, and begging for a place to stay, come out with me, drink with me, fuck me, try to take a shower with me all in less than twenty four hours," she tells him. "What do you think?"

"I think we should top it off by running off to Vegas and getting married," he told her smiling.

"Haha, no," Helga said. "What's going on, Arnold?"

Arnold played with the food on his plate, digging through it with his fork.

"I had this dream," he told her. "The week before, and in it my grandparents were sitting in the front row shaking their heads and telling me I was making a mistake."

"Okay, but it was just a dream," she told him. He shook his head.

"It was more than that," he said. "In it my grandpa takes me to the packard and drives me to the old FTi building and your there, waiting for me."

Helga takes a deep breath.

"I remembered it all, and when I look to get away my grandparents are there smiling," he admitted. "I took it as a sign."

"Arnold, we were nine. It was sixteen years ago," she told him.

"But I couldn't get rid of your voice," he yelled, standing up. "Everytime any girl ever told me she loved me, I always remembered that morning, Helga! Always. It was your voice I would hear. Do you have any idea how badly you affected me?"

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said. "But what-"

"I could never find you!" he yelled again.

"Listen, can you keep it down a bit?" she asked.

"So when Elizabeth caught me at Phoebe's I made something up," he said. "That's how it happened. Then I snuck into her office, found out where you lived, and came here."

"Okay, now I'm thinking I should call the police," she said. "Should I call the police?"

"I wanted to find you before I got married, fuck you, get you out of my system, then I could go off and forget about you," he said, pacing.

"Gee, thanks, now I feel special," she said. "You're a real romantic."

He stopped and stared hard at her.

"What?" she asked, looking uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It didn't work," he said. Before she could say anything, he strode over to her, threw her over his shoulder, and despite her protests took her to the room.

She was more submissive that night, but no less passionate. He didn't attempt the morning shower stunt again.

"So when are you going to go get your stuff?" she asked, unwrapping her hair from the towel. "I only have enough clothes to last you another day or so."

"Why?"

"Because you need clothes, you dumbass," she said, laughing.

"No, I mean, why do you have men's clothes?" he asked again.

"Sometimes I have friends in the same position as you are, except they go back to their wives after a couple of nights," she told them. "They sleep in one of the spare rooms, and I keep clothes aside in case it's a rushed thing and they don't have time to pack."

"Oh," he said, feeling relived.

"So? When are you going to get your stuff?" she asked again, sitting on the edge of her bed and towel drying her hair.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe I'll just buy some new things."

Helga shook her head.

"Your gonna have to face her sometime, Football Head," she told him.

He knew she was right.

"What do I tell her though?" he asked.

"Beats me, that's your problem."

….

By the time he got back to his shared apartment with Lucy he felt sick, he was that nervous.

"Maybe she went on the honeymoon alone?" he said to himself quietly. He took out his keys and opened the door and entered.

"Lucy?" he called out. Silence greeted him. He breathed a sigh of relief. She must be out. He made his way upstairs and to their bedroom. He saw their suitcases were still packed. That was helpful. He grabbed it and took it down to his car, then went back and took out two more. He emptied his things from the closet, then started on the drawers. He was in the study when he heard the door open downstairs.

"Arnold?" he heard Lucy call out. He didn't answer her. The feeling of needing to be sick returned, and his scalp prickled. "Arnold!"

Finally, knowing he would have to confront her eventually, especially if he wanted to get out of the house, he exited the study.

"Oh my God, there you are!" she cried out, reaching out for him. He took a step back. "What's wrong?"

Everything he could think of to say sounded so cliched.

"I'm just getting my things," he told her.

"What? Why?" she demanded. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to stay with a friend for a little while."

Lucy said nothing, but followed him into the bedroom.

"I'm sorry, Arnold," she said.

"I know," he said. "And so am I. I haven't been fair to you. At all."

"What do you mean?" she asked. He just shook his head. "Is it about Elizabeth? Because, yeah, I'm pissed, but we can call it even, right?"

"No, Lucy, we can't call it even," he said to her. "Something like this won't be healthy for our relationship. Ever."

"Look, I know it seems-"

"I'm not in love with you," Arnold said. "I'm not, okay? I . . . I can' even say for sure that I ever was. I mean I liked you. A lot. And loved you, too, but I wasn't in love with you. Damn it, I can't make it make sense."

"Oh, I hear you loud and clear," she snapped. "You never loved me. I was just something to fuck until your real true love came along, is that right?"

"What?"

"Oh please, like I didn't hear you talk about Helga in your sleep," she said. "Is that who your staying with? Is that you "friend"?"

"Look, Lucy, I'm sorry okay? That's all I can say. I'm sorry."

She burst into tears.

"Just go, get out!" she yelled. She turned and walked into the office and slammed the door.

Arnold finished his packing then took his suitcases down to his car and loaded them up. He went back in and grabbed a few more things, then got in his car. He looked back once.

"I'm sorry, Luce," he whispered, then started the car and drove away.

….

"How'd it go?" Helga asked, as he came in.

"Fine," he said, not saying anything more. He was waiting for her to continue prying, but she didn't. she just nodded.

"Chinese for dinner?" she asked, pretending like nothing was going on.

"Aren't you going to push me for answers?" he asked sarcastically.

"Nope," she said. "I hate it when people ram their nose into my business before I'm ready to talk. I believe in treating others as you wish to be treated."

Arnold was quiet as he watched her pick up a phone and dial a number.

"What do you want? Hi, can I get a Chicken Chow Mein and a Sweet and Sour Pork please?" she said, then looked at Arnold.

"That sounds fine," he said, taking a seat.

"That's all thanks," she said. "Okay, be there soon. Thankyou, bye."

She walked over to him and patted his shoulder.

"You'll be fine," she said. "I have a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, help yourself."

…..

Helga bumped into her elderly neighbour, Shirley, on her way down.

"How is your new friend dear?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's alright," she said. "Bad break up, he's hanging around for a little while, get back on his feet and all that."

"He seems like a nice young man," she said, peering at Helga. "Strong, young, verile."

Helga turned pink.

"Really, Shirley," she said.

Shirley just laughed.

"Have fun with him dear," she said. "He'd make a good daddy. He has that look, you know?"

"I'm not after children," Helga told her.

"Yet," Shirley said. "I never planned them either, but sometimes men can have a way of changing a woman's mind. Especially the good ones. But you watch yourself til then."

"Don't worry," Helga said, patting her upper arm. "I'm safe."

"Famous last words," the old lady quipped.

….

"Why don't you have a TV?" Arnold asked her that night.

"Don't like 'em," Helga said, putting the last cup away.

"You watched it a lot when you were a kid though, right?"

"What's your point?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"So why don't you have one now?" he asked.

Helga sighed. "Too distracting."

"You have a computer," he said.

"In a room on the other side of the apartment," she told him. "With a little alarm clock."

They were both quiet, not knowing what else to talk about.

"I'm gonna go do . . . Stuff," she finally said. "Feel free to borrow a book or use the computer. Password is w-o-b-k-n-I-p."

Arnold watched her enter her studio and close the door. Sighing he went to the spare room and went online. Messages galore were in both his email inbox and facebook inbox. Some were from Gerald, a couple from Elizabeth, a ton from Lucy, one from Lucy's parents . . .

He made a face and deleted them all, not even bothering to open them and look. He spent a good ten minutes deleting people from his facebook and email. There was deleting comments, blocking people, changing his status to "It's complicated." he played a couple of games, but got bored, so caught up with some of his shows. Got bored again. Switched everything off, went into the kitchen, looked in the fridge, nothing to eat, went to his room, unpacked his stuff, then just sat there staring out the window. It was then he realised that it had grown dark. He looked at his watch. Three hours! He got up again and went into the living room, just as Helga was leaving her studio.

"Occupied yourself alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, staring at her from across the room.

"Well, I'm off to bed," she said, yawning. "Goodnight Arnold."

Arnold watched as she closed her bedroom door. Not knowing what else to do he went back to his room and went to bed himself, but he couldn't sleep.

He was too lonely.


	4. Chapter 4

Helga laid in her bed, wide awake. She needed breathing space from him. She needed to think, something that had been hard to do the last couple of nights. She sighed. Why was she letting him back into her life? Into her? Was she insane? She had a lot to think about.

Sex with him was . . . Amazing, which was odd, because she would admit she had been with more skilled lovers. But with Arnold, there was something more there . . .She groaned and rolled onto her stomach. She needed advise, and the best person she knew for that advise was going to be in town over the next week. She smiled. He was her first. An older man, a few years shy of her father's age, her father being how she had met him. He travelled a lot, and she had even skipped away to travel a few times with him. He was gentle, and caring, and intelligent. Not only was he fun in bed, he was also fun out of bed. She sighed. If only he were twenty years younger. She'd marry him. Even now she would. But he had shaken his head at her "girlish fantasies". It was her first real heartbreak, surpassed even by Arnold's not returning her feelings.

She rolled onto her back. She couldn't sleep. After having company for two nights, it was already lonely without him.

"Ugh, this is pathetic," she said disgustedly. "I'm pathetic! Two nights with a guy in my bed and suddenly I cant sleep without him there?"

She sighed, got up, grabbed her flimsy dressing gown, and made her way to his bedroom door. She stood outside it for a moment, hesitating. God, did she seem desperate? A nymphomaniac? She smiled. She'd once had that name flung at her, not that the flinger had minded. About to knock the door opened and there he stood, shirtless in flannelette pants.

"Helga?" he asked.

"I'm bored and can't sleep," she said, pushing past him, removing her dressing gown and flinging herself down on his bed. She leaned back on her forearms, shook out her blonde hair, and smiled at him. "Want some company?"

Arnold didn't need to be asked twice.

…..

"I go back to work next week," Arnold told her quietly. she sighed.

"Isn't it the woman who's supposed to spoil the afterglow with chit-chat, Arnold?" she asked, turning her head to see him. He smiled.

"I was expecting it," she said, snuggling back into him. "Where are you going to stay?"

She felt him shrug. "Maybe the old Boarding House."

"You still own that?" she asked.

"Yeah. Lucy was never comfortable with some many strangers, so we moved out," he said. "Never made sense to me to be paying rent in one house when I had a freehold house, but some people can't understand reason, they can only understand themselves."

They were both quiet before Helga sighed and got up.

"Where are you going?" Arnold asked.

"Inspiration struck," she said, quietly getting dressed then exiting the room.

…

"I'm going out to stock up on some supplies," Helga said, checking her pockets for her wallet. "I'll be back in about half an hour or so, okay?"

"Yep," Arnold said, going back to the book he was reading. A murder-mystery from Helga's shelf. Ten minutes later she came back in looking disturbed.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Uh, there was an incident last night involving your car," she told him.

"My car?"

"Yeah . . ."

Arnold jumped up and went to check on his car. It took so long to get from apartment to car park and it was driving him insane! When he finally got there though he wished he hadn't. His car was completely trashed.

CHEATER had been spray painted across the back window and windscreen, all the other windows smashed in. The car had been badly keyed with insults and obscenities painted on it.

"They caught her on camera last night and called the police," Helga said coming up behind him as he touched the rear vision mirror that had been smashed. "They didn't know who it belonged to and were going to get it towed. I told them it was my friends."

"I can't believe she did this," he said.

"Seriously?" Helga asked. "I can. Look, Arnold, I like you and all, but if this kind of shit is going to become a regular thing I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Arnold spun around and stared at her in surprise and confusion. Was she serious? How could she be serious? She'd come to him last night, not the other way around, yet she was willing to just kick him out? What? Just what?

"What?"

"Look, Arnold, I don't need drama in my life," Helga said. "I spent my life surrounded by drama, some by my own doing, I'll admit. But I'm away from it now, and I don't want it back. I don't need it. I don't want it."

Arnold just shook his head and looked back at his car.

"Look, I still need to go out," Helga said, touching his shoulder. "I'll see you when I get back."

Arnold watched her leave. What had he done?

He turned around and went back into her apartment, slamming the door. He grabbed his phone and was about to call Lucy and rip into her, but decided against it. That's what she wanted. And he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. He sat down on the couch and put his face in his hands. Wiping his hands down it he looked up and noticed that Helga had left the door to her studio open a bit. He looked at the front door, then back at the door. Helga was going to be a while. And he was curious as to her inspiration.

He also wanted to take his mind off his car and the expense it was going to be to get it fixed.

He slipped into the room and looked around. Helga had painted murals all over the walls. When he looked closer he found it wasn't just paint on the walls. She had painted leaves, materials, and other bits and pieces to the wall then painted over it. Another wall was done completely in spray paint. It was a beautiful scene of two small girls, backs to the veiwer, looking at a lake.

"Helga and Phoebe?" Arnold whispered, looking closer and realising that it indeed looked to be. He recognized the lake as the one at Tina Park. He looked over to where he guessed the bathroom was, then made his way over to it. The door was thirmly shut, but he opened it and realised that it was a darkroom. He quickly closed the door, turned on the light, and saw that she had completely customized the bathroom. He looked at some of the negatives and smirked. Who used negatives these days?

He turned around and left, closing the door behind him. He then saw two cupboards. She had painted them to look like trees, and even had "vines" made from some type of material handing down. Creative, she was. He opened the first one and saw she kept supplies in there. He closed it and opened the second one and took a step back from it, his jaw dropping.

In there was a small table covered with a cloth, with a wooden box, and pentacle, and goblet? A bowl of salt, insense and candles on it, with some dried herbs, dried flowers and a statue of a woman with a circle with crescents on each side, and another of an Egyptian cat - Bast - he remembered. Looking at the shelves above he saw small plastic containers with herbs and powder, with name stickers on them. He frowned when he saw a pink notebook. He took a quick look at the door before reaching out and taking it from the shelf. There was no name on it, so he opened it. Inside the a drawing of a woman reaching up to a full moon, but still no writing, so he flipped through some pages.

Spells, rituals, prayers, even some random little notes and drawings were in it. A Book of Shadows.

"Holy crap, she's a witch!" he gasped. He put it back and opened the box to find that there were different decks of cards wrapped in silk material squares.

"What are you doing?" he heard Helga demand from behind him. He dropped the deck he was currently holding and the tarot cards fell everywhere. "Arnold, answer me!"

"You're a witch," Arnold accused.

Helga stared at him.

"So? That doesn't give you the right to go through my things, and it's not illegal," she snapped. She strode forward and picked the cards up. "How could you do this?"

"Do this?" Arnold asked. "Me?"

"You completely violated my privacy after I gave you a place to stay, you betrayed my trust!" she yelled. "How could you do that?"

"Did you cast a spell on me?" he asked.

"What?" Helga asked, shocked. "What kind of spell would I ever place on you."

"I don't know, a love spell?" he snapped.

"Don't flatter yourself," Helga snapped back. "Never remove a persons free will. And especially never direct love spells on a particular person."

Arnold stared at the woman in front of him. Should he believe her?

"Please leave, Arnold," she said quietly. She looked up and took out her book. "If I cant trust you, you cant stay here."

Arnold looked down at his feet, then turned and left, slamming the door behind him. He walked to his room and sat down on his bed.

He needed to think.

…..

Helga sighed, unwrapping the cards he had obviously been handeling. She was going to need to cleanse everything. She sat down and sulked. How could he have done this? How dare he do this? She lifted the cloth and opened a little drawer where she kept her wand, athame and a few other sharper tools. He hadn't found them obviously.

"Okay, let's get started," she whispered to herself.

…

Arnold cooked dinner for both of them. Helga came out looking more sad than angry. She glanced at him, but looked away.

"So you didn't cast a spell on me?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I'm more into the religion than science of Wicca, though I will cast when the need arises."

Arnold offered her a plate.

"When did you start?" he asked.

"Middle School," she said. "I . . .I looked at it to make you fall in love with me. But when I mentioned it to a woman who turned out to be a High Priestess in a Coven, she advised me against it and laid the rules out for me."

"And?"

"And what, Arnold?" she said. "I was in a bad place. So I asked her for help with my parents."

"Did it work?" he asked.

"It didn't make them perfect, if that's what you mean, but there were changes in them," she said. "They were falling apart, and she advised me on a spell that would bring harmony and balance to the household. But told me I couldn't make them love each other. But love wasn't their problem. Let's leave it at that. Then I just got interested, read up on it, then studied under her with some other girls."

"Does Phoebe know?" he asked.

Helga nodded. "Phoebe was with me the whole way. She studied with me."

"So she's a witch too?" he asked.

Helga just smiled. "That's her business, Arnold."

He looked down.

"Look, if you want to leave, there's the door," she told him, pointing. "No one and nothing is keeping you here against your will."

Arnold looked at the door then back at her.

"Is that why you have had so many lovers?" he asked.

"No, I enjoy sex, Arnold, and I'm not ashamed of it," she stated. "I'm a consenting adult, with her own mind, and I'm always safe. I'm never stupid."

"What about your friends? Who we met at the bar?" he asked.

"A few of them. Darius and Gladys are," she admitted. "But again, that is their business."

Arnold looked down at his food that he was playing with, rather than eating. He didn't realise there were so many. And they were so normal. He frowned. You would never know by just talking to them, or being around them. They didn't bring it up, or talk about it. If Helga hadn't told him just now, he never would have known.

"Anything else?" Helga asked.

"Can you cast a spell on Lucy?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked frowning.

"I don't know, maybe make her stop loving me or something," Arnold said. "Make her fall in love with someone else."

Helga shook her head. "I can't make her do anything. But I could maybe come up with something to help her heart heal a little faster."

"Really?"

"But that doesn't mean she will stop loving you, Arnold."

"Oh," he said, looking down.

"Look, it's been a rough afternoon," she said. "I'm going to bed."

Arnold watched her rinse her plate off in the sink.

"Can I join you?" he asked.

"Not tonight, Arnold," she said. "I'm still hurt, and don't feel like your company tonight."


End file.
